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*Rrring Rrrriinnnng*
The morning tambourine was being rung by Oga Charles.

That zealous organizing secretary who never missed the 5am morning routine.

Who could blame him?

Apparently all corpers would continue to sleep until 10am if given a leeway.

Apparently, this was one of the ways through which he could impress his muse who was our sisters coordinator.

For it reflected that he was a serious and disciplined man.
One ready to take on the real world with all seriousness.

Apparently this was the best way to always get back at Dr V, the papa (president).

Lord knows that man slept like a log of wood at all seasons.
Like Hypnos, he was king among sleepers,

Mmba!!

He slept like one already stung by a thousand Tse Tse flies.

Ten minutes went by without any response.
And he came back.

Shaking the tambourine this time with a violent vigor.
For the corpers were still in a semi sleepy state.

Good old kosi was still seething with anger at being rudely awoken from sleep
For he was stopped in the *You may kiss your bride* moment while getting wedded to madame **.

A muse, a crush.
Who words fail in description of her beauty, brilliance, radiance.

A mathematical genius whose beauty led me to start taking further maths lessons.
An unfortunate exercise that left my head with severe migraines.

Teflon Don the boss, Tolu was angry at being interrupted from sleep.

For his beloved Arsenal football club were walloping FC Barcelona in the Champions League final.
A scoreline of 6:0 which was greatly delighting him and ** (his former muse) until he was rudely woken.

Oga Toluwalase was seriously angry at that moment.

For he was chilling out with J Cole, his favorite rapper, and watching Man Utd wallop Manchester City in the Derby to decide the premier League winner.

With groggy eyes,
We all trudged to the living room for devotion.

Vickie led the devotion that morning.
Weaving through her cataloge of Igbo songs that elicited energetic clapping response from every one of us.

Within twenty minutes, the praise session ended.

The preacher came on board for morning devotion.

*Praise da Lord*
*Do not park in the same place your father's parked you*

These words our beloved Uncle started to preach.

Emphasizing on the need to love one another.

Apparently two corpers almost fought the previous day because of food.
For mama's food was priceless, finger and plate licking good.

Haaa my people!!
Mama's food was priceless biko.

The preacher emphasized on the need to be disciplined.

Apparently, news had reached his ears that some corpers always slept with their female students.

Also, he was having major issues with some corp members who never understood the need to flush the toilets after use.

Poor *Aje butters* who were finding it hard to adjust to the reality of doing things themselves.

He emphasized on the need for greater discipline too.

Apparently, he had seen a brother come out to the living room wearing singlets only.

Being the culprit of that account,
I transfixed my eyes to the side walls next to him.
Staring at the devotion roaster for the next day.

A gaze which brought joy to my reading.

For Adetutu was going to lead the praise.
And Oga Wumi, the allocated preacher.

Within thirty minutes,
The devotion ended.
And the corpers dispersed to their various rooms.

Mama and sister Maureen went into the kitchen.

Papa Dr. Vin and oga Tolu to their favorite beds.
Two 'executive' corpers who always reached their PPA's (Place of primary assignment) by 9pm.

Who could blame them?

Apparently the corper population in the school made their absence unnoticeable by the principal.
For they numbered about one hundred on ground and thirty in *ghostmode*.

Those *ghostmode* corpers who made the Area Inspector always happy with constant alerts at the end of the month.

Apparently, their head corper Femi, was falling head over heels, for a female friend of oga Tolu.

Finish this post at [url]okontas..com[/url]

Here are some pictures to brighten up your day.
Check out more at [url]okontas..com[/url]

New Poem Alert! !

Your words hurt
Heavens doors are shut
The sorrows that assail me are in a glut

http://okontas..com.ng/2016/11/hopeless.html?m=1

Hey friends.
Here are some mind blowing facts for you.
Check out more at [url]okontas..com[/url]

New University Fellowship story.
Check it out at.

God bless you
http://okontas..com.ng/2016/11/a-trip-to-university-fellowship-part-2.html?m=1

Check out this poem at

http://okontas..com.ng/2016/11/no-guts-no-glory.html?m=1

New Childhood story alert!!
Check out
A VISITING DAY IN A BOARDING SCHOOL.
http://okontas..com.ng/2016/11/a-visiting-day-in-boarding-school.html?m=1

Let it grow.
Unleash the faith in you

New Poem Alert!!
Check out LET IT GROW at http://okontas..com.ng/2016/11/let-it-grow_58.html?m=0

Check out major football matches to be played this weekend and the time to be played.

http://okontas..com.ng/2016/11/football-league-fixtures-for-this.html?m=1

NEW POEM!!
CHIOMA ( BEAUTIFUL GOD ) out now

http://okontas..com.ng/2016/11/chioma-beautiful-god_17.html?m=1

*Why does a perfect good God ignore suffering on a magnitudnal scale?*
The above question the little girl posited to the apologist.

Having witnessed the death of papa at the hands of a raving gunslinging mobster.

Having witnessed mama die of overdose of painkillers following the depression that plaqued her.

The same question echoing across the universe.

By the female beautiful graduate, upon being given the option of sleeping with the manager before getting the job.

Asked by the wailing mother, cradling the lifeless body of her baby struck dead by measles disease.

Asked by the despairing father of four, just retrenched from the only source of livelihood to his family.

Asked by the ailing hospital bed ridden occupant, whose boils and sores kept him in constant pain and caused irritation to people around who avoided his bed stand.

Asked by the atheist, Staunchly firm in his denunciation of Gods existence.
For the occurence of hunger, extremism and genocides on a worldwide scale was distressing.

*Why?*
We all ask.
In hope of understanding the nature and reasons for our suffering.

*When?*
We all ask in rhetoric tones.
In hope of knowing when it will all stop.

*Where?*
We all ask with hopeful anxiety.
In hope of knowing where we go after the threescore and ten years we spend on earth.

To the first question is given the answer of purpose.

For God created man for the purpose of dominance.

A life devoid of these sufferings currently experienced by all.
A life devoid of struggles in wealth acquisition and sustenance.

The problem of suffering came when man played God.

When man choose to define good and evil.
When the finite man thinks he can outsmart the infinite God in the game of thrones.

For with his natural selfish tendencies, man could never be totally just in his dealings with other men.
Thus he needs a transcendent moral law giver who is Himself incorruptible in nature.

To the second question is the answer of hope.
The hope whose name is Jesus Christ.

For all pain ends with the fellowship of His sufferings.

Conforming to His death by putting aside all our former. behaviors to obey His words.

And finally made new creation by the power of His resurrection.

Then dissensions amongst all races and classes would end
For we would speak with one voice.
And worship with one heart.

To the third question is the answer of destination.
The destination which is heaven with God.

For if there is no heaven, our lives on earth loses its meaning.
For there is no just judge to renumerate the good and punish the evil.

But there is a heaven and there is a just judge.

One who is incorrigible and impervious to all manner of bribery.
With a just scale,
Rendering true justice to each man.

Therein lies the answer to our sufferings.

For the hope of spending eternity with a just God in paradise gives cheer to broken hearts.

A world of no pains.
Eternity within which death is non existent.
A true utopia with a transcendent God being our king,
No ethnic and class separations,
And His love shared across all hearts.

This is our hope.
This is our message.
#BASHORUN

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Rowdiness ensued upon the lecturer's departure from the class after the test.

*oboy the test nor get head o*
These words coming out of Freds mouth.

Who could blame him?

Apparently being a man of God, he had vehemently refused to spy Auvras work.

Apparently the early breakfast of beans he had in Hall 4 still kept him feeling sleeply.

For what could separate an hall 4 boy from the love of beans?

The answer is nothing.

For even while lying dead in a coffin, a hall four boy will be resurrected immediately the smell of beans hits his nostrils.

*That woman is very wicked. See as she just come set test like that*
These words coming out of Sharon's mouth directed to Laura.

Who could blame her?
Apparently Ekosodin boys had spent the whole night shooting knockouts in the air while celebrating Eiye day.

Apparently, her neighbor had borrowed her box of matches and cube container of Maggi without returning it, thus forcing her not to cook anything that morning.

Apparently some ogas at the top, who sat near the Ekosodin roundabout, had obtained her phone.

*Wait. Was it in Taghazza that salt was found or in Takeda?*
This question being asked by Goldmedal to Stephanie.

A clear contrast of fortunes afte a typical Uniben test.

*it is Taghazza*
Stephanie replied.

All the while returning her lecture note to the school bag in preparation for the new lecturer who stood on the podium.

*One of you should come and clean this board*
The words coming from the lecturer as she surveyed the surroundings.
Her face registering a distasteful look at the environment's unclean state.

With a roughly squeezed paper, the course representative cleaned the board and the lecture commenced.

With a book opened in front,
The lecturer proceeded with the roll call.

*NKWUKA KOSI*
*present*

*TITUS*
*present*

*CYNTHIA*
*present ma*
(An addition of *ma* which indicated her freshness from secondary school)

*TEGA*
(silence)

*TEGAA*
*present*
The voice belonging to Gude, Tegas friend.
For Tega, the chief guest of honour of all freshers parties, was absent.

*GUDE*
*present ma*
Gude answered again.
This time with a slightly changed tone.

Alas!
The Lecturer caught on to the ploy.

Pointing at him, she thundered.
*You there, Stand up and get out of my class. You unserious fellow*

With swaggering steps,
Gude walked out of the B1 lecture hall.
Out to go and chase the lovely girls of Management Science most definitely.

Without any more fuss, the roll call was completed and the lecture began.

Different moods visibly characterized the lecture period.

The sleeping association posited themselves at the back and within minutes of placing heads on table, were asleep.
Probably dreaming about seeing their result sheets filled with all *A*s.
Because one of them uttered a low-pitched laugh from his sleep.

The *I don't care* association were ably represented.
For they had whipped out their phones and were engaging in all manner of picture filtering, facebook surfing.

All actions performed without the slightest interest in what the lecturer was saying.

The overly serious association were in front.
All of them furiously writing down every single word that came out of the lecturer's mouth.

Apparently old students had told them that all lecturers expected the students to write what 'they had said' as opposed to what most textbooks said.

The last association were the mildly interested ones.
They were the sharp ones who knew how the system worked.

Apparently they knew that the sum of Five thousand naira would get them a 'C' grade.
And ten thousand naira plus Andre drink for a 'B' grade.

While the 'A' grade was left either for God, the lecturer or exceptionally brilliant students.

The lecture ended with low fanfare and we all trudged out of the venue.

For the large contingent of ISD students wanted to use the lecture halls.

Like sugar ants chasing a honey comb,
They trooped in.
Sometimes squeezing some of the students desiring to leave the hall.

To different locations, we all dispersed.

The hungry ones racing to warm and eat their leftover food in the hostel.

The more buoyant ones decided to order fried rice and chicken from the Omega food truck that was located at the car park.

The love seeking guys raced to the faculty orchard.
A Fervent hope of finding isolated female students who were trying to read, burning in their hearts.

And Kosilala, who went to the back of the faculty, bought Nueores biscuits.
All in a bid of continuing his reading exercise.

GST Lectures was by 3pm.
And we were called to gather at East wing Basement for the hour long class.

The journey to basement,we all undertook.

Gazing in awe at the beautiful sculpture that was erected in front of Education faculty.

Somewhat disappointed by the 'very old' looking Faculty of Sciences which held both physical and life sciences.

Physical science that always dominated the Vice Chancellor's football Cup.

And Life sciences that had Zoology as one of its courses.
A study of animals, which my young mind could not fathom any meaningful use for the society.

John Harris Library, we all passed by.
A building most of us never visted until being mandated to visit during the final clearance.

The medical hostel we all admired.

Therein lived students who were not students in the real sense of studentship.

For the legendary tales of their partying lifestyle always marveled other students.

A lifestyle we could ill afford to maintain,
For a night out with friends at Royal Marble or PPRH would leave your pockets dry.

The Main Auditorium, we all saw from a distance.

Greatful to God Almighty that we scaled through that tiresome admission process.

A tale of blood and victory, it was indeed.

A tale worthy of its own article on a later date.
#BASHORUN

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We were still making much noise when the Yoruba teacher came.

Olori Oyelade is her name, and her class was always enjoyable

*E wi tele mi Ah, B, D, E, Eh, Uh, GBI..*
*Say after me...*

On and on she continued teaching the alphabets in Yoruba language.
With merry hearts, we all shouted in unison with her.

All except Bamigbade Dotun at least.

For Okewale Akin had just pinched him at his back.
And Dotun was fuming, while promising to fight back after the class.

All except Zainab at least.

For the tall Niger house girl, was secretly opening and closing the locker,
Putting her hands inside while bringing out little crusts of bread anytime it came out.

*Rrring Rrrriinnnng*

The break Prefect rang the bell for break time
All the while standing in front of Mr Adetola's office.

A call all students loved to hear.
Like honey to the mouth,
It sounded very sweet to the ears.

For the bread and tea morning breakfast, like vapor, had been dicipated.
Leaving behind hungry and angry students.

With mixed feelings,
We all left the classrooms.

While some students had pocket money and could afford to buy stuff from the Tuck shop,

Others did not have any money remaining could either tag along with friends with hope and faith to taste something,
Or stay back in class, claiming that they wanted to read when in truth their pockets were empty.

To the staff rooms the buoyant students went.
All praying with a Fervent faith that their guardians were present.

God forbid if the teacher was not around.
For it would mean a dispairing trek back to the classes.

To the Library myself and Yejide went.

All the way looking for Mr Ojurongbe to collect two hundred naira and mark my name in his book of life.

Mr Shittu's wards and students were lining up at his office close to SS3 block,

And they were vividly in tears.
For he had failed to come today and no prior message had been dropped.

Rasak Layiwola cried the most,
My good friend, who needed the money to replenish his provision which Senior Tayo had collected in Benue Hostel.

The queue at Mr Adeoye's table in the staff room was getting longer too,
So long that Mrs Achinze, our loving Social Studies teacher, told them to line up in front of the staff room.

In walked Mr Adeoye in brisk steps with his glasses not firmly fixed to his face,

For with style, he could detect any cheating student in the exam hall.
And administer his favorite tyre cane which was highly HIGHLY painful to the students backs.

Today was not a good day for him,
And so the students quickly got on his nerves and were dispersed amidst their little protesting grumbles.

The lucky students ran merrily to the Tuck shop.

Yejide, Bukola and Zainab walking in elegant strides,

Austa, Sixtus, Bobo and Ijoba marched in big boys strides,

Henry Kc, Ehigie, Henry O, Jeffery, all arguing about manchester united match against Porto.

A argument everyone could see Jeffery was winning.
For he had janded (went into town through the jungle) to watch the match.

Like a affluent yoruba party with many buffets,
The Tuck shop had four women who sold fried fish, moi moi and other foods.

And one tall man,
Whose sole service was making calls to children parents with his 'ancient of days' Sagem phone.

To the moi moi seller, i went.
Buying two ten naira pieces while buying bread also.

The bread, i divided into two halves,
The moi moi contents, i emptied into it,
Thus making a masterpiece meal which never disappointed in taste and fulfillment.

All the while giving thanks to God.
For there were no #Owanmbe students around.

For they were always putting on faces, so innocent,
All in a bid to making you feel like a monster if you did not give them a bit of food you bought.

From my vantage point,
I spied the teachers section.

Those teacher who would load up their bellies with fufu and obe ila (okro soup),
Then return into the class with renewed vigor in beating their students.

A new sight caught my attention.

For it is not always a familiar sight when one sees a lion and a goat playing together.

Yejide, Bukola and Zainab were eating in the teachers section.
And the meal in front of them was NOT rice and beans.

Closer I went,
For the white curtains that covered teachers section still blurred my sight.

Seeing a good spot,
I watched the scene unfold before my *korokoro* eyes.

Yejide had before her three wraps of eba and egusi soup.

Bukola had four fufu wraps with egusi soup.

And Zainab, the best runner who could outrun Usain Bolt and even Katumi on the field, had six fufu wraps before her.


Their eating pattern was shocking too I might add

For the movement of their hands were too swift and not graceful like all boys envisioned it to be.

Obviously, their provision had also finished in the hostel,

Coupled with the fact that they missed the morning breakfast
A reality that delighted Ibironke Tobi the table server that day.

And so they kept on eating.
Blissfully unaware of my watching eyes.

There and then, the mist fell.
The great myth, that girls never ate eba or fufu, was broken by these unsuspecting students.

For all female students never came to the dinning hall to eat solid foods like eba,

And so all boys thought they were so high, graceful and never even passed waste.

With quickened steps,
I raced towards the class.

Hoping to spread this shocking news to my good friend Fatoki Shola, who was obsessed with Yejide.

Osfeam did not believe me at all.
Who could blame the poor bloke?

Apparently he was head over heels in love with this angel who was perfect then and would always be perfect.

Apparently, valentine was coming and he had plans to buy her a card gift and Beske, which they sold in town.

*Rrring Rrrriinnnng*

Break time was over and we all raced into the classes.

To be continued in later posts.
#BASHORUN

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This is a merry tale of my primary 2 holiday.
And i am its humble tale bearer.

The day started like any other school day.
With mummy banging our door in a call to prayer around 5:30am.

Anger flared in my heart at that moment.

For i was in a party with different foods served in the dream.
And poor Kosi was just about the next person that the stewards were going to serve.

More still,
My little mind could never know that Mummy and daddy had to go to work even though I was on holiday.

With a groggy murmur in my lips,
I went into the parlor.

The devotion lasted 40 minutes
Thirty nine minutes of which I merrily slept away on my knees .

Who could blame me?

Apparently that was the most brilliant way to feign prayers even though you were sleeping.

Apparently, its practice helped brother Nnamdi catch up on his lost sleep,
For he used about three hours of the previous night on MTN Extra cool, whispering sweet nothings into the ears of aunty Joke his girlfriend.

Alas!!
Today was the day I was caught.

For the sleep was too sweet thus leaving me in that same position ten minutes after the devotion.

Being woken with a gentle tap on the back,
Mama nudged me towards the kitchen.

Time had come to wash and sweep the whole house.

To the farthest ends of the balcony, my sweeping reached.
All the while joy filled my heart.

For baddo and baddest were coming over to join my bahd self to make the day glorious.

Olumide Bankole was my baddo.
Adio Kehinde was the baddest.

And the trio of us kids could and would wreck the peaceful sanctity of heaven if given the opportunity to.

Within an hour, my full duties were discharged

Amidst gleeful jumping, my breakfast of bread, fried eggs and tea was wolfed down.

*Ntoo rr. You will go to school today bem be*
*Your teacher will flog you in school today bem be*
This taunting song I kept singing to Chiedu over breakfast.

A slap on the ears i received for my actions.
For He had indeed failed to complete his English homework and would be caned for it by Mr Yebuoah, his teacher.

Another hour went by and I was home alone with daddy.

Raced over to the parlor,
Settles on the couch while nestling my feet on the stool.
Cassette player and TV remote in my hand,
The time had come.

Titanic.
Isakaba Part 2
Toofan
Who am I (by Jackie Chan)
State of Emergency (by JT Tom West)
Owo Blow (by Ogogo)

These six films I wanted to watch that given day.

Titanic was the first film I slotted into the player,
Reclining on the sofa while munching speedy biscuit bought from iya Ruka.

Within ten minutes, disaster struck.

NEPA took the light.
The damned NEPA official in their office had woken up from slumber and done his real job.

Jesuu!!!

*Ko ni da fun yin o eyin omo Esu yi*
*It would not be better for you people, you children of the devil*
These curses I muttered while switching off the settee.

All the while praying and bargaining with God in my heart.

*If you bring this light back, I will return mommy's ten naira I took.*

*If you don't return this light I will not go to church to see you on Sunday*.

*I will be a good child like Samuel if you bring this light*.

*If you bring this light, I will buy chocolate and give to the pastor your servant*

*I will*

The light returned immediately.

Evidently God loved Pastor Oladoye very much and wanted me to buy chocolate for him.

With great speed I rushed and switched on the TV.

While the credits read,
Mummy Olumide brought him over

While Adio's mummy cancelled at the last minute citing a minor flu.
Later did we know that Taiye had destroyed his dad's favorite cup and was grounded at home for it.

Within minutes bahd and baddo were engrossed in the movie.

Two little kids who loved the film Titanic for the tap dances and could not understand why Jack did not climb the raft with Rose to prevent his death.

NEPA took light again in the middle of Isakaba.

This time, the disappointment was mitigated.
For my bestie was around and he had brought his bottle cork team with him.

We set up the field and the match started with a radio cassette roller as the match ball and paper constructed into goal posts.

I scored the first goal,
He scored an equalizer in a dubious fashion upon which a fight ensued.

*Dirti dirti boy*
I called him, in a bid to annoy him.

*Atoile Oloorun, Smelly Bedwetter*
He replied with in perfect retort which drew tears in my eyes.

*Mi o ba e sere mo. Ma lo ile re*
*I am not playing with you again, start going to your house*
These words I uttered to him in whimpering sounds with a bruised pride.

*Eh ee. Me too, I will not give you my biscuit and zobo to be eating again in school*
He replied.
A childish grim determination spreading across his face as he packed up his bottle cork players.

On his way to the door,
Light returned,
And we both shouted for joy while racing for the parlor.

Within two minutes,
Two sworn enemies had become best friends again.

Oh how I wish the world worked that way.
Within such a world, jealousy and strife lose every meaning.
For a child's grudge never exceeds a time frame of five minutes.

In great joy, we finished watching Isakaba.
Two little boys especially delighted when Ebube and Nwoke put the charm on Ikuku stone and urinated upon it to diffuse his power.

With mixed feelings, we watched Who am I.
Two little boys who cried after watching Jackie Chan (their favourite 'Snake in the Eagle Shadow' actor) die at the ending.

With great ecstatic joy, we watched Toofan.
Too little boys who always enjoyed the Indian version of a revenge mission which always entailed one man killing up to a thousand men and also fighting a tiger in a cage with his bare hands.

With mild joy, we watched State of Emergency.
Two little boys not happy with the fact that Saint Obi foiled the mission of our favorite actor JT Tom West.

With a fulfilling joy, we watched 'Owo Blow'.
Two little boys happy with the fact that despite his poor and terrible beginnings, Ogogo became very rich even though it was gotten through theft.

Olumide brought 'Ololade Mr Money' movie along.
A film we could not watch.

For mama came back too early from work and loaded us with chores.
Thus preventing me from watching the most popular *Ogun owo* (blood money) film making waves at that period.

This is the bahd boy Kosi and this was how i spent my holiday.
#BASHORUN

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*Where are you lord?*

These words I scream as I wake
For I feel the burden of the world resting on me again.

I miss your touch.
Your words which brings solace to my crazy world.

My heart longs for you.
Yet i feel an emptiness coming from the places I see your face.

Upon the face of friends, I see no joy.
At your alter, I could only feel the coldness of the slab.
From my work, I see no inspiration.
On my knees, my heart feels nothing.

It is all stale now.
Depressing thoughts haunt my sleep.

Sin's allure has tripled.

The clubhouses appear more attractive.
Girls around look more seductive.

The advocates for pre-marital sex have become more assertive.
The jobs available now have become more competitive.

The Brewers of alcohol have become more creative
Your soldiers have become more ineffective.

*Type amen and be blessed*.
*Send this to five people and recieve instant money*.
*Blessings, blessings and showers of blessings*
*Kill and murder my enemies*

These words, I keep hearing.
The church's power keeps disappearing.
Juicy gossip in church, my ears keep overhearing.

I guess that is how things are.

The essence of life reduced to owning houses and cars.

The essence of worship reduced to dancing and more show offs.

The essence of prayers reduced from communion to a demand session.

The essence of love reduced to sex and more kids.

I know you are there lord.
And so I will keep on.

Keep on staying strong in the faith.
Keep my chart set on your course and my eye transfixed on you.

For these facts I know.

That sin, no matter how sugarcoated will continually dent the soul with bitterness.

Know that I am a pilgrim who is just passing through the valley of darkness.

Know that these struggles of mine are for a period.
For they are needed to increase my faith unto perfection.

This is my joy.
This is my hope.
That you are there behind the scenes.

Behind the veil lies your smiling face.
A smile, I will never wipe off through sin.
A smile, I will never wipe off through weakness and laziness.

A smile, I hope to witness with my very own eyes when I leave this world.
Your smile, Jesus, is my hope.
#Bashorun

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*Wake up, you brutes in a state of nature*
These words resounded all through Hall 3.

A morning wake up call always echoed by a philosophy department boy who stayed in block B.

A tradition which stopped when the big broses of Block F paid him a visit.
For with their ever reddened eyes, which spoke of the loud volumes of mariguana they smoked,
Their requests could never be denied by anyone.

From Block A, Room 408,
The morning traditions began.

Felix Duru and Star, the two engineers started their morning prayers,
A ritual which Engineer hated.
For it always roused him out of his deep sleep.

Timi, the loverboy, did not wake up on time too.

Poor bloke had spent the night in the love gutters of Hall 2 car park,

All the while whispering, cuddling and never quite reaching the promise land.

For he never knew his status as Mugu 3.

A pleasant Mugu who the girl used to always replenish her stock of Freshbite Ice cream and Mama Blessed meals.

Jude was already awake.

The lanky education dude who wanted to visit Faculty orchard in a bid to jacking for the morning ENL 121.

Poor old bashorun awoke amidst the rambles going on outside.

For the previous night class had left him exhausted and highly annoyed.

Who could blame me?

Apparently my eyes had seen what could not be unseen,

For two students around faculty of Agric had decided to disturb the people reading with their insanely loud lovemaking sounds.

Apparently, anybody would be annoyed with the reality that after jacking like mad, the same score you would get, could be easily bought with Five thousand naira and a bottle of Andre.

Apparently, I had to visit Ekosodin, the Iraqi zone, that day to retrieve my handout from Oghogho the beautiful light skinned angel who never returned any material borrowed to her.

With groggy steps we all went down the stairway to fetch water.

All the while laughing at those boys who decided to take their bath in the full glare of everyone around.

For the bathrooms were always in a terrible state with unsavory smells emitting from the toilets within them.

The Voyeurs of Block B were already at their stand.

Those damned boys who took pleasure in spying on Hall 2 girls bathing around 5am to 6am.

The fighting block D had started their madness this early morning.

Apparently a 100 level guy had eaten the beans prepared by his 300 level roommate.
And the aggrieved party was hell bent on teaching *this Jambite* a lesson of his life.

To the lecture halls, we all dispersed after being dressed.

Eating bread and beans at Blessed foods at June 12.


At the Law faculty,
We all gawked at the impeccable white and black wearing law students,

Hating them with our mouths, while inwardly envying their every move.

At the Twin LTs,
We all shut our eardrums.

God knows that students became shouting savages every time they entered those buildings.

Into Faculty, I entered.

Making pleasantries with Akpos Clarke, Hilary and Shalom while we entered B1 in anticipation for Reverend Sisters HIS 110 course.

Entering the class,
The shouting matches began.

*Neggg. Have you called the lecturer*

These words being shouted by Goldmedal to Nwadinobi the class rep.

*I told you he is lazy. We should have chosen either Activist or Bola*

Adekunle added
While escaping a blow aimed at his head by the class oppressor, GoldenVic.

*Shut up there Ogbe*
Nwadinobi retorted.

All the while flashing a perfect smile towards Amina, Peace and Maro.

Who could blame him?

Apparently, when the cards are played right, class reps could make the girls fall in love.

Apparently Neg's relationship with Lady Faith was in shambles and the good Old Neg came out today
Like a true fisherman,
Looking for a new fish to catch.

Apparently He was a little short on cash and class reps, could get some cash gifts from fellow classmates.
A fact which explained why Neg was being really nice to Ibori and Peace that day.

Within twenty minutes,
The lecturer arrived.

An impromptu test, we were all to take.

Like a class of children just informed of the presence of immunization officials around to administer injections to them,
Sounds of wailing erupted.

From the 'fine fine gehs' clique
To the 'football analysts' clique.

From the 'mamas and just married' clique.
To the 'tender looking fresh out of secondary school' clique
Uncertainty arose.

In the midst of the chaos, some faces remained impassive.

The 'scholars' people called them.
Chief amongst which a short glasses wearing beauty called Stephanie.


Within minutes,
Boys had perfected their formation.

The pattern would be 4-3-2-1 today.

Sir Hilary would be the striker feeding the back with information.

Neg and Clarke would be the advanced midfielders wearing 8 and 10.
Both ready to pass the paper *expo* backwards to the rest.

Odimayo, Lesky and Victor were the central and defensive midfielders.
They would sift the information then cross check it with Kunles work.

For *the boy know book small* had been the adjudgment of the team coach Ibori.

The defenders comprised of Peace, Ibori, Maro and Marquino.
Every ready defenders who never missed any paper.

Within an hour, the test was completed

More to come in later episodes.
#BASHORUN

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A laddle in my left hand,
A spoonful of soup in my right hand.
A fulfilling smile spread across my face.
For the salt seasoned the soup excellently well.

Too little would do no good.
Too much would transport the soup to the waste bin.

Salt to the earth, believers are called to be.
The entirety of God's word, we must agree with.

The ends of the earth, our voices must reach.
The stony hearts of men, our love will breach.
The little gods, striving with God's enthronment over our lives, we must strive to impeach.

In every season,
At every location,
We must be ready to preach.

Preaching God's love through the words of mouth.
From the north to the South.

Showing God's love through our actions.
Shunning all detractors and distractions.
Disregarding every call to favour any factions.
Allowing moderation to characterize all interactions.
Displaying an avid hatred for all infractions.

A reply, seasoned with love, to every accusations.
A vivid passion for God's kingdom intoned in all aspirations.
A clear tolerance of other faith, embedded in all associations.

Filthy and loose words, erased from all dictions.
Outburst of anger banished from all conversations.
Full measure of patience, cultivated for all trials and examinations.

Christ the solid Rock, make our foundation.

With His words, dispel all oppression.
With His guidiance, acquire all possessions.
With His presence, overcome all depression.
To His courts, direct all ovations.

Like the travelling Samaritan, Rescue people from their afflictions.

Like the Fervent Brethren,
Pray for deliverance for those in the dungeons.

Like Nehemiah,
Encourage those weighed down with false allegations.

Like Apostle Paul,
Write to condemn all altercations.

Like Jesus,
Shun all acts of condemnations.

Like General Neman,
Never consider yourself above corrections.

Like Lot fleeing Sodom,
Pay no attention to diversions .

Like Dorcas,
Let your life reflect so much love as to cause the whole world to weep and genuinely pray for your resurrection.

Like Enoch,
Walk so faithfully in God's ways, that He would not hesitate to send a special legion to bring you home to a heroes welcome.
#BASHORUN

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As the deer pants for the waters of the brook,
So my soul longs for thee Lord.

As the schoolchild desires to sight or his mother immediately after school.
So my heart longs for thy infilling.

As the boarding student desires the sight of his father's car on visiting day,
So u yearn for your presence.

As the lady in a five year relationship desires the sight of a kneeling knight with a diamond engagement ring extended to her,
So I desire your fulfilment.

As the Otondo corper desires the allawi at months end,
So I desire your grace to crown my efforts m

As the University Lecturers desire any grievance upon which to declare strike action,
So I desire any medium for you to bless me.

As Manchester United fans desire the sight of Pogba scoring Hatricks in every match,
So I desire your help in silencing my doubters.

As the staunch APC supporters desire the sight of Fayose in chains,
So I desire to see the sea filled with the charred bodies of my enemies.

As the stauch PDP supporters desire the sight of Asiwaju Tinubu Jagaban defecting to their party,
So also I desire the inflow of blessings into my household.

As the Arsenal fans desire the sight of Tottenham humiliation and Sol Campbell in tears,
So I long for my cup of joy to run over in the presence of my enemies.

As the stressed out mom desires a peaceful sleep to come upon her crying baby in the middle of the night,
So also I desire your angels to tame my dungeon lions.

As all Nigerians that the dollar rate equates 100 naira again,
So I pray that all hearts turn to you and your love be spread across in our hearts.
#BASHORUN

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(Very Graphic in nature. Not suitable for children viewing)

Come folks come.

Gather in circles around me while i tell you this tale of Aucshwitzs.

An echo of woe, it resounds.
A stench of grief, it reeks.

For it was a time when man played God
And a reminder of what we will become without a moral transcendent law giver to govern our actions.

A period of advancement in educational circles with a corresponding advancement in weapons of murder.

Our tale starts from their arrival.

In thousands the trains brought them,
Hungarian, Soviets, Polish, Gypsies they all were.

'Undesirables' they were called
All meant to be put in their natural habitat.

Reaching the gates,
Whole families were separated.

A lash was administered on unwilling mothers who held on to their husbands.
A blow was administered on children still holding on to their papas clothes.

Like mules they were led to the sorting area now.
Each human branded with a number on their arms.

Their unique names replaced with a number tag like guinea pigs.

Little Katie's name became 23133.
Her papa Gustav's name became 24644.

Large scissors appeared,
Each Nazi official clipping away mothers and daughters hair and leaving them bald.

For the Germans needed the hair for the textile industries and machines.

Then were they separated, never to see one another again.

In eights, they slept on a bed like sardines.
An average of two people succumbing to the cold kiss of death before day break at 4am.

In twenties, they bent down at the lavatory to pass waste.

An average of five dying of toilet diseases due to lack of paper and water in washing up.

And who could blame them?

Apparently they were even lucky to use the toilets
For some of their friends had to dump their waste in their eating bowls without enough water to wash it up.

Apparently the Germans regarded them less than ants,
Provided thousands of inmates with one building,
Thus making the ones who used the lavatory lucky.

Apparently they were provided with no papers or water to wash up,
Instead they used any paper currency they saw to wipe their behinds.

In hundreds, they bent their backs in hard labour.
An average of forty dying daily in the mud due to the cold and exhaustion that bit their bodies.

For their frail bodies were kept alive with crumbs as food.
For their wooden shoes resisticted their movement,
And their trigger happy overseers kept on whipping all within range.

In thousands, they were lined up in the morning assembly.
An average of seven hundred being selected for the gallows.

The man with a wheezing cough. Picked.
The child with a bitting cold. Picked.
The mother with emaciated body features. Picked.
The boy with his foot crippled by frostbite. Picked.

To their workplaces, the lucky ones were marched.
To Kanada, to sort out the baggages.
To the fields to dig trenches and pick stones for the day.
All without baths.

To the chambers, the unlucky selected ones were led.
Wailing sounds emanating from their throats as they trudged.
Their mouths uttering pleading words in all languages to the Swansika badge wearing Nazi officials.

All pleadings fell on stony hearts.
For Hitler had built up young men devoid of any conscience.
And wickedly cruel in execution of executive orders.

In batch of fifties, they were divided.
The first fifty swiftly marched towards the wall and shot in the head.

The second batch were taken into small compartments and left to suffocate.
Officials laughing while watching the victims thrash wildly and gasping for air.

The third batch, deemed stubborn, were taken to the smallest standing compartment to starve to death.
A wager undertaken by the Nazi officials around, on which inmate would be the last man standing.

The fourth batch were led into the yards to be hanged.
The watching girl sobbed as her mother hanged loose from the rope.

The last batch, in their hundreds, were taken into the chambers.
Stripped of their clothes and huddled together.

Here comes two officials,
Zyklon B canisters in hand,
Gas masks on their faces.
A wicked demonic grin on their faces as they throw in the box shaped cyanide based pesticide.

Landing upon impact,
The box hissed as its contents dispersed.

Howls rent the air.
Bodies thrashed against each other in desperate fight for life.
Within twenty minutes, the throes of death ended and all prisoners were dead.

Within thirty minutes, their bodies were wheeled out to the doctors.
With snipping knives, their bodies were cut up and their intestines searched.
For the Nazi officials wanted to recover all gold trinkets that the 'Undesirables' swallowed.

Within forty minutes, their corpses were burned to ashes at the crematorium and dumped into the river.

Night and day continued these practices at Aucshwitzs for three years until Hitlers fall in 1945.
And a million lives, the practice took.

A grim tale this has been.
More grim are the indepth details being told by its survivors.

*The Holocaust*. People called it.

A crime against humanity.
Committed by a people who brilliantly disproved God's existence.

Committed by a man who deemed his people more worthy than all peoples.

Committed from a heart devoid of any love.

For none can love without knowing the person of Jesus.
And a life of love His presence brings.

Beloved, I most certainly did not want to write this article but the truth must be told.
A heart which disregards the existence of God always degenerates to this level.
This is a clarion call to all christians to take the missions work seriously in order to spread the gospel to all ends of the earth.
If you desire peace to reign and love to reside within everybody, Start telling all around about His love.
God bless you as you do so.
#BASHORUN

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How are you doing my great friends?

I have witnessed the times you were burning hot for God's work.

When your passion and gifts were in total synchronization with God's plan of de-populating the kingdom of darkness.

Days when you handled the microphone and demons fell.
Days when you handled the pen and wrecked havoc on Hell's hordes.

I am witnessing your light sleep now.

For you claim the day to day hustle within the huge cities leave you too drained to burn for God.
For you claim the absence of enough time in making yourselves available for God.

For you keep claiming that you are experiencing the *writers block* in composition of articles and music for God.
For you keep up the claim that the church department has refused to give you a spot to display your talent for God forgetting that you carry the church in you.

Well.
I have news for you sirs and madames.

While you slept,
The world helped define pre-marital sex as lovemaking and not fornication.

While you dozed,
The world read new meanings to the bible and concluded that Holiness does not mean perfection.

While you revved up the tone of your snore,
The devil taught teenage boys that money acquisition and sleeping with hot women were the definition of true success.

And no one was on ground to remind our little sisters of their uniqueness and beauty in face of an onslaught of love advances disguised to make them fall.

While your saliva found an escape route at the corners of your mouth,
Weed became the in thing and nobody was on hand to lecture youths on the adverse effects of smoking shishia.

While you were enjoying your rest from duty,
The clubhouse became the youth official church and the church was regarded as a place habited by *stale old people*

While your pen rested on its stand,
It became okay amongst new couples to consider divorce as a first means of overcoming marital problems and visits to the clergys consulting office dwindled in numbers.

WAKE UP NOW.
The message I pen to you today.
The prod I wish to rouse your sides with.

Pick up that mantle you abandoned and the microphone you dropped.
Wash up your eyes with the scriptural words of truth and ask for mercy from your commanding General.

Yes. Yes.

Raise up your flags once more and wave them highest in the midst of the storms.

The homeless homes,
Visit with gifts of love and message of love.

Uncharted territories,
Break in with the sound and message of goodnews coming from thy lips.

The shackles of religious routine,
Break free from and start extending the word to every location.

For His commission never restricted the goodnews to the church pews.

Rather to the ends of the earth, Preach.
To all audiences, Preach.
On all media platforms, Preach.
With audible sounds, Speak.

There you are,
A Sleeping giant awakened from slumber.

There the devil stands,
A Shrieking tone coming from his lips.

There your Creator and Saviour stands.
A fulfilling smile spreading across His lips.

Here #bashorun stands,
Receiving inspiration from every word you write, every lyric you sing, every decorations you put up and every prayers you render.
#BASHORUN

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Sosogho Abasi mi.
All thanks ascribed to you my God.

Our Mfoniso,
The mighty and victorious one in battles and the keeper of our families.

Osa-Nudazi,
The impregnable one who is our shield and fortress.

Ima obong,
We thank you for you boundless love.

Eno obong,
Your countless gifts you gave to us and mercies that remain sure.

Inemesit,
My sweetheart who left His throne on high to redeem me.
And defeated death and the grave to grant me victory.

Ekpe Judah,
The Lion of the tribe of Judah.

Obot Usen,
The creator of the day and giver of strength to our bones in our youth.

Obot Okon,
The creator of the night and heaven to serve as rest when our journey in life ends.

Aniebiet Abasi?
Who is like you in all the earth?

We searched and found none.
For only you can open and shut a door without needing permission or following protocols.

Nsidibe Abasi?
What can be hidden from you o lord?

We researched and found none.
Therein we are assured that our sorrows will end.
And we find our peace, knowing you are omnipresent.

Aniema Abasi?
Who loves or cares like God?

We tried all sources and discovered joy like no other in His presence.
For He called us the apple of His eyes.
Literally, we are sooo close to His eyes.

Mmokutima,
I have seen and met love and His name is Jesus.
He lives in me.
Hallelujah as I abide in him also.
#GodPraiseSundaySeries
#BASHORUN.

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[url] https://www.nairaland.com/3431716/trip-down-ekosodin-lane[/url]
This is the true link to his page

Brooooo. This is someone's work. #BASHORUN work actually. And I am him by God's grace. So please give due credit and stop claiming others work

The day was a Wednesday.

Ring ring
The morning bell rang at Yellow House city hall.

In a groggy formation,
All juniors marched to the front yard.
Senior Tade was the taskmaster that day.

Having identified the culprits without brooms,
He proceeded to administer our daily morning tea with the belts in his hands.

Sixtus dusted his cane ,
For we knew he always put napkin to pad his buttock.
Bobby feigned his pain,
Poor Kosi cried out in howling pain.
For a dosage of harmattan mixed with cane was never a good combination.

*From you to that boy there, sweep inside*
*Second line, sweep decking and prefect room*
*Third line, Frontage and toilet*

Duties dispatched,
We all ran to the pump.

Woe betide who was last to fetch water,
For like the foolish virgins,
They would be locked out of the dinning hall,
And their morning food consumed by early timers like Lasisi.

Having bathed and dressed in impeccable green and white,
We matched to the dining hall.

Bread and tea was the morning menu.

Bread, they called it.
More like a fist sized ball of eba which could not satisfy a six year old child.

Tea, they called it.
More like a tasteless coloured water that had the aroma of thick smoke.

With half empty stomachs,
The good students trudged to the assembly.
And the bad gang found their way into the classes and the mosque.

Who could blame them?

Apparently, Mrs Akinokun's hawk eye could easily detect a student with slippers on or without socks from a thousand kilometers away.
And her band of beautiful female prefects had no mercy in collecting the slippers.

Apparently, Mr Idowu's roaming eyes always caught talking and erring students with untucked shirts.
And his technique at wielding the cane was better than his knowledge of Intro Tech his subject.

Apparently some students smuggled out bread from the dinning hall to keep in their class lockers.
A fact, poor and hungry Kosi discovered and a point of duty to avoid assemblies, all to help them keep their bread in my belly.

Within forty minutes,
The assembly was dismissed.
Time for the hated Mathematics first period.

*Good morning class*
Our teacher echoed donning red flowery gown today.
Swaggering in with New General Mathematics on her right hand,
And a long freshly cut cane, she borrowed from Mr Adetola, in her left hand.

Who could blame her?

With a student like me who hated the subject,
You needed the cane to drive home the subject matter.

With a student like Ajani whose second name was trouble,
You needed the cane to keep the class in check.

With a student like Fatoki Shola who kept on stealing glances at Yejide through the whole period,
And Okewale Akin who kept writing unsuccessful love letters to Bukola,
You need a cane to capture their attention.

With a student like Sebiotimo who kept on attacking the girls with rubber band and paper,
You would need the cane very much.

Like a Fervent prayer warrior,
I prayed for the period to end quick.

God answered my prayers,
For Aunty got a call from Mrs Abgoola telling her of the arrival of the fish and aso oke clothe seller.

Like the outburst following the newsbreak of Abachas death,
The whole class shouted for joy at her exit.

All except Oluwaseye,
For she was his guardian whom he dearly loved.

The other periods went terribly.
The English teacher came.
And the whole class was caned for failing the take home comprehension assignment.

The labor prefect came around too.
His treasured book of life in his right hand,
And (you know what) swinging in his left.

Needless to say,
Our backs were the recipients of the rewards of abstaining from labour duties.

Mr Esan came to the class later.
A gentle dove who rocked dark glasses.

Meek when on good terms,
Terrible when provoked.
The latter side we witnessed.
For our noise disturbed the whole class block including a class he was teaching
To be continued.
#BASHORUN

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ghettowriter:
I LOVED THIS.




Did you write that?

Yes sir.
By God's grace

Weary from life,
I trudged up to Jacobs well.

Pitcher in my hands,
Earnest hope in heart.
I hoped to draw enough water today.

Enough human strength to fight all my battles.
Enough inspiration from the marriage seminar to keep my home together.
Enough human compliments to affirm my being special.

Enough money to reignite the waning attention the world was giving me.
Enough fame to keep me in the spotlight thus keeping suicidal thoughts away.
Enough confidence from books in order to stand against criticism directed towards me.

On reaching the well,
I let down the pitcher.

Alas!
The pitcher was empty when brought up.

The search for money had brought more misery than expected.
My friends and Beloved had no answers for me today.

Dr Phil, Oprah and Richard Templar prescriptions for living right had failed.
The sight of my husband in the morning which brought strength and love now repulses me.

The drugs and weed had failed to take me into heaven once more.
The cloud nine I anticipated to reach before the sex, was unreachable even with 2 hours spent.
The army escorts I had in employ were powerless against my spiritual foes.
Worse still, my herbalist had reached a wall he could not scale.

So there i was in dispair.
Putting my pitcher back into its pouch,
Getting ready to go and kill myself.
For nothing gave me the hope to continue.

Then I saw a man,
Coming from Jerusalem towards the well.
Perhaps He wanted to draw from the well like me.

*Sir, the well is empty today*
I said in a disheartening tone.
Hoping to save Him from undertaking a fruitless exercise.

Into my eyes He looked.

*Hello friend*
He said.
And with a smile,
Acknowledged my existence.

Here was a Jew acknowledging me.
A man who God loved, speaking to a man who God hated for his sins.
A race who God had specifically commanded never to have dealings with my race, yet He stands here speaking to me.

I had seen some of them before.

God's people,
They called themselves.

Never pausing for once to say hello to me.
Never pausing to offer help to me or at least pray for me.
A tag of sinner and unworthy, they willingly placed on me.

Here was one who was different.

We got talking.
He told me His name is Jesus.

Told me that the waters from Jacobs well, though sweet, had disappointed much people.
Told me that its dryness had Instigated a deep depression within its visitors that led to their untimely deaths.

*Are you serious??*
*So I am not the only one who has felt this pain before?*
These two questions I asked.
Hoping to elicit common feelings of Dispair.
And get on my way home.

*Yes my friend*
Then He offered me a new well to draw from.

A well within which true peace can be found.
Wherein joy would be found.
A well overflowing with living waters He called it.

Told me that I would need no help from friends and family when I tasted of its waters.
Told me I would need no cravings for the intoxicating substances when I tasted its sweetness.
Told me victory over all things, physical and spiritual was assured if I drew from the well.

*Oga anyi, Please give me this water*
This plea I echoed loud.
For I was at my wits and knowledge end.
And had absolutely nothing to lose.

Of the well of life Jesus gave me.
In gushes, joy flooded my soul.
In stillness, my raging seas of trouble was calmed.

A new man I became.
A greater woman I became.

The need to exceed peoples expectations from me, ceased.
In its place grows the desire to know God better and acknowledge His will only.

The need to worry about the future stopped as I know Him better.
In its place grows a deep seated trust and faith in Him.

The uncertainty about life after death stopped.
In its place grows a yearning for a Home on High with my God.
#BASHORUN

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Ekosodin.. Ekosodin
The Nigerian Iraqi zone

How great men art fallen in thy streets.
How precious destinies have ended in thy stalls
The dirge people raise up at the funeral of your victims are heart wrenching.

There they are,
Dark hooded fellows waiting,
Different colours and banners flying,
Assorted weapons hidden,
All waiting at every corner to make trouble.

*oboy show*
*baby show*
Subtle whistle calls to unsuspecting victims.

Like a rattlesnake, they strike.
Carting away all valuables
Leaving behind a stunned victim with a face peppered with hot slaps.

Ekosodin.
The den of Strong men.
Too old to remember their admission dates.
Too fearful of facing life outside the small village.

At every hostel they wait.
Long term tenants overdue for eviction.
The landlords agent comes knocking.
A distinguished lawyer in his own right.

*The landlord said you people should pa.*
The words froze in his lips.
For sight of the gun was enough to shut him up.

*Landlord say make una take good care of the hostel*
Quickly changing the content of the message meant to be delivered.
Who could blame him?
For a wife and three kids awaited his return home.

To the primary school field I went.
Hoping to enjoy a bit of banter among social gathering.
The shirtless team was winning and the game tempo building.

Midway through the game,
A harsh tackle ensued against a shirtless player.

The referee feigned ignorance.
The spectators maintained their silence.
The shirtless team maintained remarkable muteness.

They all knew who the referee was.
I did not.

There I was.
Yelling with a maddening roar at the injustice ignored.

A side step, two side steps,
Friends around had began to distance themselves from my location.

The referee blew a halt to the match.
In short strides undertaken with dwarvish legs,
He raced down to my location.

*Who you be*
He asked.
Blurting our the most idiotic question I thought anyone should ask.
For I was a Jew in the country of Rome
And a spectator in the midst of initiates.

*Well, I am kosilala for your information*
I replied while lacing the words with an exuberant tone.
For I thought he was just another student.

Within a fraction of a second,
An eclipse occurred before my eyes.
For the afternoon sun became obscured by a dark cloud.
Bright stars appeared in my vision that moment.
And the chirping sounds of birds around became more audible.

Two more slaps followed in quick succession.
Two more tsunamis that eroded my calm and beautiful face.
Two more hands in my pocket relieved me of my new phone.

A baptism of fire,
I called it in narration to friends afterwards.

Your first lecture in Ekoso 111,
My roommate called it.
And the second lecture came that Saturday.

At the viewing center I sat,
A yearning expectation swelling in my heart.
With a win from Manchester United over Arsenal,
My betslip winnings of #4000 would be guaranteed.

So the match began.
Rooney bumped in the first goal.
Danny Welbeck supplied the second.
Ashley Young added a third with a sublime curling R2 goal.
And the floodgates slammed shut at Seven-nil.

Ecstatic described my state.
Wilding jumping and hugging unknown strangers.
For winning in football always elicits a joy universally shared.

While exiting the door,
The minions gripped my hands.
And with unspoken threat escorted me to the lair of oga at the top.

Oga was very angry with me.
For he was a fan of the loosing Arsenal side.
And my jubilation had inflamed the sadness in him.

In the middle of the slapping and kicking session,
My orientation changed.

Whilst spending my last #2000 buying beer for everyone around,
My support for Manchester United rescinded.
And my dire love for the gunners was born.

With deep seated thanks I hail thee.
For my fears you heightened
And my belief in God you strengthened.

To Him I ran to secure me.
For I could do nothing to secure myself from the chairmen.

In God's presence I found true peace.
And in His word I found true wisdom to moderate my associations within that dreaded place called Ekosodin.
#BASHORUN

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Sitting out here.
Eyes fixed on the stars.

Gazing at the beauty they radiate.
Reflecting on the light they create.
In deep thankfulness for the darkness they alleviate.
Praising the God whose beauty the stars enunciate.

Like Stars on earth believers are called to be.

Seeds of love we are called to procreate.
God's Dominion over all things we are expected to recreate
Acts of evil we are meant to remediate.

Selfish thinking we must be ready to repudiate.
The great Commission we are must always permeate.

The hordes of Hell, our actions must infuriate
The path of Destruction, we must make sinners to deviate.
Like our father in heaven,
the office of kings we must officiate.

And at all circumstances and over all creations,
WE MUST DOMINATE.
#BASHORUN

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kokosari2:
Please what can I do, my husband seems to be addicted to porn and masturbation. He does it at every opportunity he has, even on our matrimonial bed and it's quite disgusting.

Check out this site. I hope it helps
http://www.covenanteyes.com/2011/11/16/7-questions-wives-of-porn-addicts-often-ask-part-3-of-3/